


Search & Rescue

by verucasalt123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel and Crowley (Supernatural) Work Together, Dean is Missing, Domestic, Happy Ending, Injury, M/M, Mystery, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 03:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13115001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: When Dean goes missing in between cases, Castiel and Sam work with Crowley to find out what happened.





	Search & Rescue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuwlshadow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuwlshadow/gifts).



> This is for kuwlshadow for the SPN J2 Secret Santa. I went with your prompts of Sam/Cas, Crowley, and lost/kidnapped Dean. I hope you like it dear!

There hadn’t been a case for weeks, and the tension was mounting within the Men of Letters bunker. 

At first, it was a nice break. Dean and Castiel watched a lot of Netflix. Sam hate-read End Of Watch because he couldn’t only hate-read two books out of a trilogy.

Castiel still didn’t quite understand why Sam had a compulsion to read every new Stephen King novel even as he referred to them as _garbage_ or _derivative_. He didn’t really question Sam about it, mostly because Castiel enjoyed the commentary.

Bored Winchesters weren’t very good company. Dean kept sneaking off to the “don’t go in this room” room. His natural curiosity and constant tendency to touch things he wasn’t supposed to touch caused a couple of ugly arguments. 

Sam was barely even interested in sex, even though they had plenty of spare time. Castiel, normally exceptionally patient, was starting to get frustrated. He was snapping at Sam over stupid things; he was irrationally irritated almost all of the time. 

Doors were getting slammed, plates were being dropped into the sink loudly, light bulbs were blowing up randomly.

So it was a pleasant surprise when Castiel found Dean humming and smiling while preparing breakfast. He tried on a smile of his own and said, “Good morning, Dean”, as he took a seat at the small kitchen table.

“Mornin’ Cas”, Dean replied. “Where’s Sam?”

“Still asleep. He was up pretty late finishing that book he hates.”

Dean chuckled. “That kid...just coffee for you, or you want some of this bacon?”

Castiel no longer enjoyed food the same way as he had during his brief time as a human, but he never lost his taste for a few specific favorites. Mostly bacon, macaroni and cheese, and ice cream. 

“I’d love some bacon, Dean. Thanks”, Castiel said. He wondered what had Dean in such a chipper mood this morning, but didn’t ask for fear of ruining it.

Taking a seat across from Castiel with a full plate of breakfast, Dean slid a colorful flyer across the table. Ahhh, mystery solved. A classic car show in Hastings. 

Castiel remembered going to just such a show years earlier, tagging along with Dean and Sam on a rare quiet weekend. He appreciated their beauty and the obvious great care with which the owners treated them, but he wasn’t nearly as impressed as Dean or even Sam. 

Cars just weren’t Castiel’s thing. He was happy enough driving his old Ford pickup, or riding in the Impala.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Castiel heard a familiar shuffling of feet and turned in his chair. 

There was Sam, barefoot, in sleep pants and a v-neck tshirt. His hair was a bedhead mess, he was still moving slowly, and damn it, Castiel thought, he was just so beautiful. 

As Sam poured himself a cup of coffee, Dean turned to face Castiel and said, “Seriously Cas, with the heart-eyes? This early in the morning?”

Castiel scowled, and Sam dropped a kiss on the top of his head as he headed toward his seat. For good measure, Sam showed Dean his middle finger and said, “Good morning to you too, Dean.”

Quickly changing the subject, Dean asked Sam and Castiel if they had any plans for the day. 

“Not really”, Castiel replied. “Catching up on Game of Thrones maybe..” 

Sam said, “Same, pretty much. Still looking around for a case for us, though.”

“Well, y’all enjoy your Netflix and chill. I’m driving to Hastings for this car show”, Dean said, showing the flyer to Sam. Sam looked it over and nodded, showing his appreciation for some of the car photos. “If I head out now I’ll be there before noon, and probably back here early evening.”

Castiel felt a little guilty for being so relieved that Dean was taking this trip on his own. Dean probably needed to get out and do something by himself, and Castiel had no interest in walking around a parking lot looking at old cars all day.

All told, it was a fairly uneventful and quiet day in the Bunker. Castiel managed to lure Sam away from his search for a case long enough for them to have sex on the map table, which was pretty intense and fun but definitely not comfortable, and then to hit the showers together.

Not surprisingly, a nap followed the shower. Since he had started sharing a bed with Sam, Castiel had learned to fall into a deep meditative state that very closely mimicked sleep. Being Sam’s little spoon was one of his very favorite things and he wasn’t about to miss out on it just because he didn’t technically _need_ to sleep.

It was the ringing phone that woke Sam. Castiel had just walked back into the bedroom as Sam answered the call with a groggy “Dean?”

Whatever it was that Dean was saying, it had put a curious look on Sam’s face. Sam set the phone down on the nightstand and put it on speaker. “Wait, okay, so...you hit your head?”

Dean’s voice was tinny and far-off through the phone’s speaker. “I was checking out the engine in this sweet yellow Chevelle with black hood stripes - same year and model as Bobby’s - guy had a 402 in there-”

“Dude, hey, can we get to how you managed to hurt yourself at a car show please?”, Sam asked, looking at Castiel and rolling his eyes.

“Don’t make it into some big deal. Somebody bumped into the side of the car and somehow the hood came down, caught me across the top of my head. No blood, no weird symptoms, I can see fine.”

“Okay, just sit tight, we’re on our way. We’ll drive up in Cas’ truck and I can drive the Impala back home.”

The unsurprising response from the speaker came quickly. “Unclench, Sammy. I’m good. There’s no point in you two coming all this way-”

Castiel chose that moment to break his silence. “Dean, do you honestly expect us to sit here watching the clock and worrying because you decided to drive 60 miles with a head injury?”

“No, Cas, I expect you to trust my judgment and make sure there’s beer in the fridge when I get back.” Dean was definitely starting to sound irritated, but that was too bad. Castiel had played the _trust my judgment_ game too many times with Dean, and it wasn’t going to happen today. 

“We’re coming up there”, Sam said, “like it or not.”

Dean was practically growling. “Fuck off, fuck all the way off Sam, and you too Cas. I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Clearly that’s not the case”, Sam replied, the hint of condescension evident in his voice. 

Castiel had been here more times than he could count, and he wasn’t about to let this devolve into some ugly name-calling fight that they’d all regret tomorrow. 

“Listen”, he said loudly, speaking to both Winchesters. “Shut up both of you. I have a compromise, and it is not a suggestion. I won’t listen to this childish bickering.”

By some miracle, there was silence. Maybe Castiel still had a little of that righteous anger left in him after all. 

He explained the plan. Dean would eat dinner in Hastings and check into a hotel. In the morning, if he felt fine he would drive home. If he didn’t feel fine, he’d stay put and Sam and Castiel would drive to Hastings.

“Dean, this is only going to work if I can count on you to be completely honest with Sam and me about how you’re feeling in the morning. So?”

Sounding much more calm, Dean said, “Yeah, yes. I do actually have a headache. I’ll call you guys when I get checked in.”

After the call ended, Sam turned around with a bit of a sheepish look. “Sorry, Cas.”

“It’s fine, Sam. I’m not angry. At least now we know Dean will be fine for the night, and”, he grinned slyly, “we’ve got the place to ourselves for a little while longer.”

When he saw the look on Sam’s face, Castiel felt the tension float away. 

Dean called an hour later, talking about how he was staying in a nice hotel and had spotted an attractive woman at the bar in the lobby. All seemed to be well there. Castiel and Sam spent the rest of their evening in bed (except for that one time in the kitchen) and slept soundly through the night. 

Sam’s first text to Dean around ten a.m. went unanswered. After half an hour, Sam called and got voicemail. Castiel could see the concern starting, and asked Sam to give it an hour or so in case Dean had been out late and maybe was sleeping in. 

Dean never slept in, certainly not until almost noon. 

“I don’t like this, Cas. Something’s not right”, Sam said, after the second phone call also went to voicemail. 

Castiel was also feeling a bit worried, so he called the hotel where Dean had been staying. The front desk clerk was very helpful. Castiel listened, asked a couple of terse questions, then hung up and turned to face Sam. 

His expression must have given everything away, because Sam said, “Cas, just tell me what they said.”

Dean had spent the night in his room, at least most of the night. He’d passed through the lobby in the early hours, maybe 5 or 6. He hadn’t been carrying any bags, he was alone, and he didn’t appear to be intoxicated. The clerk had been certain Dean would return, since he’d left his bag behind. 

And his car.

Less than five minutes later, Castiel was speeding through the northbound lanes of US-281, Sam in the passenger seat. Other than a couple of short, tense exchanges, the ride was mostly silent. Castiel knew they were both having the same thoughts, picturing worse case scenario images in their minds. 

In Hastings, they passed The Rainbow Inn, which looked much like their usual motel arrangements, on their way to Comfort Inn. Not exactly five stars, but more than a step up from what they were used to on the road. 

The clerk’s shift was over, but he hadn’t left. When they reached the desk, the clerk popped right over. “Are you the ones who called looking for Dean Robinson?”

“I’m Dean’s brother, Sam. This is my partner Cas, he’s the one who called. Can we look at Dean’s room please?” Castiel recognized Sam’s attempt to look calm and rational when he was in full panic-mode inside.

“Partner? Y’all cops?”, asked the clerk, certain his day was about to get more exciting.

“No”, Castiel replied, already starting to lose his patience. 

The clerk’s eyes went wide and he started babbling. “Partners - oh! Oh, I - sorry, I’m sorry, you just don’t look, I mean…” His voice trailed off as Castiel’s expression changed to the one he generally reserved for Crowley or anyone else who caused Sam or Dean any harm. 

“The room. Now.”

“Yes sir, uh, sirs. Follow me.”

Castiel and Sam had both used the location services on their phones before they left Kansas (Dean called it the _stalker app_ ), so they knew Dean’s phone was still there. That meant he’d wandered away before dawn, with no bags, no phone, and no car.

The search of the room was meticulous but efficient. No unknown calls or texts to or from Dean’s phone. Nothing strange stood out on his laptop. There was a towel hanging on a hook in the bathroom, just barely damp. The keys to the Impala were on the bedside table. 

Sam was on the other side of the bed, most certainly checking for hex bags, when Castiel turned his gaze back to the clerk who was still standing quietly right outside the door. “Did he order room service?”

“No sir, we don’t offer room service here, just a continental breakfast.”

The room was free of hex bags or any other suspicious items. For all appearances, Dean had come up here last night, taken a shower, and gone to sleep. Then, for some unknown reason, he’d gotten dressed in the pre-dawn hours and just walked away.

Back in the lobby, Castiel heard Sam book the room for another night. A good idea, in case Dean tried to return there. His phone and car keys were in Sam’s jacket pocket. 

In the parking lot, Castiel asked Sam to unlock the door and the trunk. They searched every inch but found nothing that set off alarm bells. Frustrated, Castiel slammed the back passenger side door closed hard enough to shake the whole car.

Sam choked out a laugh, but Castiel could hear the sadness around it. With a smile, he said, “If Dean finds out you slammed his door like that…”

Castiel walked over to the other side of the car and held Sam’s hands in his. 

“We’re going to find him, Sam”, he said, squeezing their hands together tightly. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

A few blocks down, they stopped at a bakery. Castiel knew Sam hadn’t eaten yet. He ordered a cup of black coffee and watched as Sam ate a quiche in peace, without anyone to make fun of him for ordering it.

“Cas, we have nothing to go on here. Not one single clue. I have to admit, I was kind of hoping that if we got close, maybe you’d be able to find him. You know, like - see him or whatever…”

“I would give anything if I could. But you both still bear the sigils on your ribs. He is hidden from me.”

“It just feels like such a waste of time, aimlessly wandering around with no clue where he might be, who he might be with. There’s nothing on the traffic cams. The businesses around the hotel were all closed that early in the morning, so there isn’t anyone who might have seen him.”

Castiel saw Sam’s conflicting sides at war with one another - the part that craved a structured idea, a plan, even a backup plan, versus the part that could think of nothing but saving his brother, willing to tear things down and throw himself headlong into danger if it meant that Dean would be okay.

He hated seeing Sam this way. Castiel knew what kind of terrible consequences could come from the actions of an angry and desperate Sam. He’d seen them and they were ugly.

The plan - well, Castiel guessed it was more like an idea than a whole plan - dawned on him all at once. It was risky, and it would almost certainly cause an argument. He waited until they paid their bill and were once more walking down the sidewalk among quaint shops and people going casually about their day.

“There was something I just thought of. Or someone. Someone who might be capable of locating Dean for us.”

“What are you talking about? If you can’t find him - wait, are you talking about a witch? How do you even know any witches? I’m not sure if I-”

“No”, Castiel said, interrupting Sam before he went too far down that avenue of inquiry. “Not a witch. Crowley.”

Sam didn’t say a word for a good ten seconds. Then, the inevitable argument began. 

“Have you lost your mind? There’s no telling what his price will be for helping us! If he even would help us. He’d be happy to see Dean dead, and the two of us along with him.”

“I know it’s not...ideal. But unless _you_ have a trustworthy witch up your sleeve, this is what we’ve got. I want Dean back as badly as you do. You know we can’t do this on our own. We need help, and if there’s a chance Crowley can track him, I think it’s worth the risk..."

Sam was quiet for a moment, then looked into Castiel’s eyes. “Cas, even if Crowley can find Dean, who’s to say he won’t just take off with him? Use Dean as leverage to get everything he wants from us?”

“I understand your hesitation, Sam. If I could think of any other option, I’d never take this chance. Also, I’m fairly certain that Crowley isn’t all that eager for Dean’s demise, or for yours either.” 

At Sam’s incredulous look, Castiel forged ahead. “I’m asking you to trust me on this. I know it’s not patently obvious, but Crowley comes out ahead if you and Dean are still alive. So maybe you’ll owe him a favor, which you hate, of course. But I’m telling you, he doesn’t want to see Dean dead, or you, or even me. At least, not right now.”

Castiel was surprised when Sam nodded in agreement. “I trust you. It’s closing in on 12 hours since Dean went missing. So let’s do it. We can walk back to the hotel, see if we have the ingredients for a summoning spell in the trunk.”

“I don’t think we’ll need to do that”, Castiel replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You have his _phone number_?”

“What, you don’t?”

Sam scrolled through his contacts and Castiel saw the moment when Sam realized Crowley was on the list. 

The telephone conversation was very brief, and Crowley promptly joined them in an alley between two buildings. 

“Well, this is a lovely surprise. Hello Jolly Green. I understand you and Feathers here are in a bit of a pickle. How can I be of service to you two devastatingly handsome fellows?”, Crowley asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and delight. 

“We don’t have time for your flirtations today, Crowley”, Cas responded. “You know what we need, and I doubt you would have shown up if you didn’t intend to help us.”

“Then we’ll skip the foreplay this time. Moose, you can’t find your brother with any of your technology skills, and your boyfriend can’t find your brother because he intentionally made both of you invisible to angels. So now you’re calling on a bad guy like me in the hope that I’ll somehow be able to track him down. Right so far?”

“Yes”, Sam answered. His face and voice made it plain that he was equal parts angry and desperate. “Are you going to help us or not?”

“Since you asked so nicely...why not? And it seems you’re in a hurry, so we’ll discuss my finders fee later.”

Crowley started walking, Castiel tugged on Sam’s arm to keep up.

“I can already tell he’s not far. Fat lot of good that _profound bond_ does you, Cas.”

“So he’s alive? For sure? You can tell?”, Sam asked.

“Yes. I’d still be able to locate him dead, but I can tell the difference”, Crowley replied. 

By this time, they’d moved past the commercial district and Castiel could see quite a large open area ahead of them, sparsely wooded with very tall grass. Just as they reached it, Crowley stopped walking and looked around, his eyes narrowed. 

“What is it, Crowley?”, Castiel demanded. “Is Dean out here?” He could see Sam fighting the urge to run into the grass at full speed, so he laid a hand on Sam’s forearm as a signal to be still.

“He is out here. And he’s not alone. I don’t think he’s in danger, but I do sense another presence. Come on now, keep walking, maybe we’ll find the squirrel up a tree”, Crowley said with a chuckle. 

Castiel was fighting his anger - he knew Crowley would treat this like a joke no matter how serious it turned out to be. He and Sam continued to follow, though. Right now, this was their best shot at finding Dean quickly.

As they approached the tree line, Crowley stopped again. “This is...unexpected. Cas, I’m sure you must sense it.”

He could, in fact. Not a solid recognition, just a feeling. Something not from their world, something that could be dangerous but wasn’t innately evil. 

“What the hell, Cas? What is it?”, Sam asked, getting more anxious by the moment. 

“Sam, I can’t be certain exactly what, but there is an energy out here. It feels strange, I’m not sure I could identify it without being up close.”

After a few more steps, Crowley turned around and stared at Sam as if he were trying to read his mind. “All right, Moose. I know you and your brother have encountered just about every kind of creature over your years in the _family business_. Do you know anything about the sidhe?”

Castiel’s eyes widened, and a sense of recognition fell into place. But he didn’t remember either of the Winchesters saying they’d had such an encounter. 

Sam just looked confused. It was clear the term had no meaning to him, so Castiel prompted him. “What do you and Dean know about the fae, Sam? Faery?”

Immediately, Sam closed his eyes and shook his head. “I guess we never did tell you about that. It was years ago, when I - when I didn’t have a soul.” It was a painful subject, that period of time when everything was all about the souls. When Castiel had been so foolish. And now here they were, Castiel once again willingly working with Crowley. It was no wonder that Castiel didn’t know - it was a part of their history that none of them liked to think or talk about any more than absolutely necessary. 

Taking a deep breath, Sam gave them the Cliff’s Notes version of their time in Elwood, Indiana. “The one I talked to implied that our version of angels and demons didn’t necessarily mean all that much to them. They’re not of this world.”

“And thank your deity of choice for that”, Crowley said. “Fairies can be very nasty things, and they don’t play by our rules.”

Castiel added, “I understand how they could be involved now that I know Dean was taken once to Avalon. Even after he came back, the fae would be able to track his soul. What I don’t know is what they want with him now.”

“Let’s find out then”, Crowley said, and started walking quickly in an westerly direction. 

Ten minutes later, Dean came into view. He was sitting with his back against the trunk of an old tree. Next to him sat a very attractive dark haired woman wearing a dress entirely inappropriate for a walk in the woods. Castiel knew the moment he saw her that she was, in fact, from a different realm, and he knew the instant that Crowley recognized it as well. 

She seemed to see them getting closer, and she stood facing them with her arms crossed in front of her body. 

Sam hit the ground right away, without even a glance in the fairy’s direction. Castiel wasn’t surprised, but he did wish Sam would have waited to find out what the creature’s intentions were. 

“Well, Glinda, you seem to have found what we’ve been looking for”, Crowley began. “What’s your business on our side?”

Before she had a chance to respond, Castiel moved closer. “What have you done to him? Release him immediately!”

Sam looked up at her with an angry glare. “He’s alive. I don’t know if that’s because of you or in spite of you. Start talking.”

With that, the woman-like creature began to cry. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see him. I could sense his soul was closeby, and I’ve heard the stories, all about how he escaped from our world. I was peering inside of him, but I never meant to summon him here. When he arrived, he was confused. Injured.”

‘And what did you intend to do with him?”, Castiel asked. 

Crowley was standing several yards away, seemingly not at all interested in getting any closer to the fairy. “Cas, if she wanted to harm him, she would already have done so.”

When Castiel looked over at Dean, Sam stood and studied the woman. “You’re like Gilda, Charlie’s friend, aren’t you? A good fairy?”

“Yes”, she replied with a sigh of relief. “My name is Dawn. I knew you would come looking for him. I fixed his head, but he’s been asleep. I wanted to keep him safe until you got here. I just wasn’t expecting you’d bring an angel _and_ a demon with you.”

Castiel nodded and told Sam, “She’s being truthful. She doesn’t mean your brother any harm.”

“Maybe, but the way I remember it, there’s a price for doing business with the faery.”

“No”, Dawn said. “This isn’t business. If I hadn’t been poking around in his mind, he wouldn’t have ended up out here in the first place. Please, just take him to safety, and I swear I’ll be back in Avalon before you can blink.”

“Do it now”, Castiel said, and true to her word, she disappeared immediately. 

Sam sat back down and started to wake Dean gently, without startling him. Castiel, on the other hand, walked over to Crowley. “All right. You did your part. Now tell me what you want in return, and I’ll consider it.”

Crowley laughed and shook his head. “I haven’t got anything in mind right this moment, darling. But believe me, when I do, I’ll let you know. Let’s just say you and the flannel twins owe me a favor.”

With that, Crowley pulled his own disappearing act. Castiel turned to see Sam slowly helping Dean to his feet. 

“Th’hell are we doing out here? Sammy? Cas? Man, I had the weirdest dream.”

Castiel moved in closer to shoulder Dean’s weight. No point in Sam doing the heavy lifting when he was capable of keeping Dean upright without any effort at all. 

“Let’s just get you back to the hotel”, Castiel said. “We’ll fill you in on everything.”

“You’re safe, and your friend back there seemed to repair any damage from that hood falling onto your head”, Sam told Dean. “We’re just glad to see you in one piece.”

“Fine”, Dean said, “but can we stop on the way for food? I’m starving.”

Castiel grinned. Clearly, Dean really was fine. “Earlier today, we had lunch near the hotel. Sam said the quiche was quite good.”

Dean stood up a bit straighter, all ready to mock Sam’s lunch choices. 

They’d be alright for now, Castiel thought. But they still really _really_ needed to find a case.


End file.
